Do Saints Get Free Sweatshirts?

On the drive back from running errands Tuesday, I told Trevor there are times I wish I was like everyone else.

Naturally, I said this after he complimented me in the very best of ways. On a good day, it absolutely would have been drawer dropper.

But my mental health wasn’t great so instead of responding with a thank you, he was gifted with a pity party speech.

I meant it, though.

When I have days like Tuesday, days I am so mentally/emotionally exhausted I don’t have it in me to do much of anything, I’d love to know the secret to being a well rounded human.

I assume it probably helps to not have mental health issues.

I wish I was one of those people who seem to fit the societal mold. People who “do the right things” consistently. People who look like they have their shit together.

Be a person who actually does.

Instead of the adult who has emotional support plushies and feels, in some ways, they’re still the family fuck up.

I probably should have mentioned today isn’t exactly a peak day, either. It’s winter, though. The season I go into a mental health coma where I feel relatively crazy until spring arrives.

…this is the point my therapist would probably make a comment and I would respond with, “Yes, this post DOES feel like victim energy, Tasha, but I want to vent my feelings even though I am going to swing back around and end things with a much different perspective”.

If I don’t squirrel and forget to come back and lighten this post up a little.

You get the point, though.

The part of being human I excel at is the part where I don’t know what I’m doing/question what I’m doing a lot of the time/feeling as though I mess things up because I can’t think clearly and react instead of pausing and communication gets messy and then it has turned into a gigantic ball of shame.


I struggle with being human because I don’t feel like I know how to be a proper, respected, kind of knowing, could be a great role model, etc. human.

Which could come down to having spent a fair chunk of my life as a people pleaser, not establishing boundaries/speaking up for myself, and/or not having trust in myself because I am recovering from needing outside validation.

Oh. And I have given too many people, and their opinions, too much power.

But hooray therapy! It’s helping. So are all of the Buddhist podcasts I’ve been listening to.

Let me back up because I think I may have misled you.

They are helping me cope/giving me tools to work through the uncomfortable parts of life.

Not helping me feel like I know how to be a normal, “functioning the whole year round “human being . However, I do feel more at ease and at peace lately.

One notable podcast I listened to recently is Metta Hour Podcast- Episode 172. Remembering bell hooks.

I am sad to say I didn’t know about bell until she passed.

But I enjoyed hearing her input this episode- specifically the difference between love and caring. Which led to me buying her book, “all about love”.

I am thirsty for knowledge.

Once I’ve finished reading it AND when I get through Sharon Salsberg’s book (she is the host of said podcast and is a meditation teacher), “Real Love”, I plan on sharing what I’ve learned.

Ideally. Posts just kind of happen around here when they happen. And with very little thought put into them beforehand.

Anywayyyyyyy, I decided that while I do not know how to be anything other than whatever I am currently-I care a lot.

And I would like to be better at sharing it.

…which is a nice way to say, “I bought these books because I want to know/find how to love people that I don’t particularly like because we are supposed to love one another and we aren’t supposed to play favorites”.

Trevor says I am aiming for sainthood. HA! …only if I’d get a free sweatshirt. Then maybe I’d consider it.

Winter is uncomfortably cold here in Kansas. The wind gets you every time.

After we made it home, and with the pity party basically over, I hopped on my phone because distractions are always welcome on hard mental health days.

I get my serotonin wherever I can.

I was not disappointed. Facebook informed me Jenny Lawson had a new blog post. And I very much needed a laugh.

Or something to shoo away the remaining cloud lingering like a guest who doesn’t know how to read social cues and has stayed way too long above my head.

Jenny’s blog post it was.

I love her dearly. As I’ve said before. But you wouldn’t think so because I am awful at keeping up with her blog.

However, I can remember to check TikTok every day to see if my favorite content creator has posted a new jumping spider video.

I hope we can still be best friends, Jenny. Can I call you Jenny?!

Because I don’t think you’d hold it against me for wanting to watch adorable jumping spider videos. I get the feeling you’d enjoy them, too.

This part of her post made me wonder if there was something in the air Tuesday:

And then in my 40s I’ve sort of ignored age because 40 is the new 30 according to people who are 40, but 50 feels a lot like the time in life when I should maybe start to become “serious and more mature” but I just spent the morning looking for the perfect place to display my newly-arrived taxidermied squirrels doing the Lindy Hop and then I sort of realized that becoming serious and more mature wasn’t actually an option for me even if it was something I’d ever wanted.

The Bloggess

The part of realizing those things weren’t an option for her, even if she wanted them, was EXACTLY how I felt about my life existence.

I don’t know how to be anything else- especially on days where I wish I knew how to be more. Sure, I can learn and grow (which I love to do!).

But the core of me is…this.

I’m sure it’s some sort of gift. This combination of human I have become. The mistakes I have made. Lessons I learn from. How life can still humble me at 39, despite all the podcasts and books I read.

Which reminds me of something I saw on IG the other day. It basically said you can read all the self help/spiritual books but if you’re a jerk and you don’t do the work, you’re still going to be a jerk.

I felt slightly called out because I haven’t been meditating regularly and am probably neglecting a few other things; HOWEVER, I am doing work.

And taking anxiety meds again. Because self care and it’s something I can do for myself that is loving. Not to mention I’d like to not drive myself crazier the rest of winter.

…maybe everyone else is faking it, too, but they are way better at hiding it than I am.

More posts to come.

Published by amberalice

I’m not sure how to summarize myself properly (I struggle with simply being human). But let’s give it a try! Spiritual witchy hippie who dreams of three day weekends and human rights for all. Lunch lady to the neighborhood birbs (white breasted nut hatches are the best!). Adore my jumping spiders. Oh, there are also 50 or so plants we share our home with. And some rogue lady bugs. It’s always interesting to see where they show up. Like on toilet paper. This is where I add a heavy dash of queer, neurodivergency, and vegetarianism. Am big on hugs- I give them most generously.

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